Rabbit Heart
by Ninazadzia
Summary: In their eyes, Glimmer Rambin is nothing more than a pretty face. If only they knew how much she had to offer. Character study, one-shot.


_**Rabbit Heart**_

**By Ninazadzia**

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><p>Last year, I received the following superlatives at my Academy: "Most Beautiful," "Best Smile," and "Best Wardrobe." I know, I know—it's a hard life. It's so hard when other people constantly judge you because you're beautiful—because you've got the blonde haired, blue eyed bravado that they wished they had—because you naturally have 32D's a bum to boot. Because <em>every<em> (and I mean _every) _boy thinks you're attractive.

Because you're never more than an object. You're never more than a commodity—a form of communal property.

Life is so hard because you're _that _girl. You're the girl that everyone wants to sleep with, but no one wants to take out on a date. You're the girl that's "_so _fucking hot she'll even make by nine-out-of-ten ex-girlfriend jealous." You're the girl that boys will show pictures of to their friends, just for bragging rights, just so they can they, "see this chick? Yeah, I know, she's really hot. And get this—I fucked her."

You're the girl that never pays for her own drinks. You're the girl that goes home with random men.

You're the girl that everyone _wants, _but nobody needs.

And, on the surface, even though this girl seems like an easy, gorgeous, blonde bombshell, let me tell you a little something about this girl. Let me tell you about this girl that you took home, the one that has a great body and a dazzling smile and gorgeous blonde hair—

This girl is lonely.

This girl loves someone that doesn't love her back, because that someone can't take her seriously.

This girl is viewed as nothing more than a _thing._ A commodity. An object. A sex toy.

This girl receives offers on an hourly basis. This girl has a countless number of men pining after her.

This girl has been sexually assaulted.

This girl has been told that her (and I quote) worth is "nothing more than her boobs and ass."

And this girl is smart, so fucking smart that she actually got into a prestigious university, and on scholarship.

But this girl is never taken seriously, because she has 32D's, a bum, and blonde hair.

This girl didn't go to said college because she believed that the Hunger Games would be a better life path. "You're beautiful," she was told, "And you're decent with a bow. Maybe not as good as the girl from Twelve, but who cares? You're much more beautiful than she is. You'll get more sponsors."

So this girl volunteered for the Hunger Games, under the presumption that her looks would be enough to make her win.

This girl signed her own death papers.

And—believe it or not—this girl is the girl that you want to be. This is the girl that you've been jealous of since you were little. This is the girl that always got all of the boys, that always made you feel like you weren't _good _enough, that made you feel like you weren't pretty. This was the girl that you would look at and say, "how? Why?" How was someone so lucky? Why was someone so beautiful?

This was the girl that had everything going for her, at least in your eyes.

This girl was me—Glimmer Rambin. And Glimmer Rambin died, merely days into the Hunger Games. And when Glimmer's body was shipped back to District One (all deformed and swollen), you saw it firsthand. And you stared at it, shocked, and wondering, "how could someone so beautiful look so horrifying?"

Do you want to know what this girl's secret was?

Glimmer's secret was that she was you. And me. And everyone in the world.

I was ephemeral. I was a commodity.

I was a woman, and my worth was only found in my looks.

She died, and so will you.

And, now you think—

"I'm not so jealous anymore."

Because Glimmer Rambin is nothing.

Glimmer Rambin is nothing more than a pretty face, with blonde hair and blue eyes.

And, as you watch her coffin get whisked away, you think, "If only they knew…"

If only they knew how much I had to offer.

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><p>"And in the spring I shed my skin<p>

And it blows away with the changing wind

The waters turn from blue to red

As towards the sky I offer it

This is a gift, it comes with a price

Who is the lamb and who is the knife?

Midas is king and he holds me so tight

And turns me to gold in the sunlight…"

-**Rabbit Heart, **_**Florence + The Machine**_

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><p><strong>AN: Sorry for the tense changes/general poor quality of this one-shot. This is why I shouldn't drink and type.**

**On a lighter note, let's show this fic some love, yeah? Because we all know a "Glimmer," and I think that is as women of the twenty-first century, we've all at least once had someone treat us like we're little more than a piece of ass.**

**xx Nina**

**PS. I have about 2742397923 fics inspired by Florence + the Machine songs. For those of you that were curious, "Rabbit Heart" is my all time favorite.**


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